Nuits du Damned
by Axarsh
Summary: [AkuRoku]AU Vampire fic. Slight Roxiné and possible SoRiku. [Yaoi, Shounenai, Language, Gore, OOC] Full Summary on profile! [Prologue up!]


**Author's Notes:** Whoo! Vampfic! With a French name!!! Lol, okay, this is the story I told ya'll about in Anything for You. Um…yeah. Hope you like it! Oh, and I continually say 'he' for the most part of the prologue…you'll see why. Also, first person to flame me for writing yaoi…you'll die. Kay?

**People who reviewed/added to alerts:** None! This is the prologue, dumb butt.

**Disclaimer: **Oh yes, I remember making Kingdom Hearts. I also invented Vista AND DDR.

**Pairing!: **AkuRoku, Minor Roxiné (hehe), SoRiku?

**Warnings:** Future yaoi, Shounen-ai, language, violence, gore, ooc

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Nuits du Damned--Nights of the Damned

Prologue—Welcome to the Dark

* * *

The sound of shattering glass echoed throughout the two story house. It quickly dissipated, but not before the sound woke a blonde ten year old from a pleasant dream. He groggily rubbed sleep from his eyes, and then looked to see if the pretty lady from his dream was still there-begging for him to save her from zombies. Not seeing her, he looked over to where his brunette twin slept soundly. He quietly padded over to his brother's sleeping form, whispering his name and poking his shoulder. His brother didn't wake, and the blonde sighed. He was going to find out what that sound was, partner or not. 

He carefully moved through his bedroom door and into the hallway, the full moon outside lighting his path. His feet carried him to his mother room, where the sound seemed to have come from. As he neared the oak panel of door, voices began to reach his ears. The only female voice-his mother, more than likely-sounded distressed, but he couldn't be sure. He continued towards the door, but stopped suddenly as an unfamiliar voice-furious and frightening-interrupted his mother.

Cautiously, the boy tiptoed forward, slowly stretching out his arm to open the door just enough for him to see. There, on the carpet stained with something dark-_blood_?- was his mother. Her hands were tied behind her back by bloody rags, and she seemed to be stuck in a kneeling position. Tears flowed down her blood-stained face, and her deep sapphire eyes-the eyes that the boy and his twin shared-were wide with fear. A broken lamp lay shattered beside her, some shards of the glass embedded in the woman's skin.

"You lying wench." One of the shadowy figures had stepped forward and began to speak-his voice deep and demanding. He gripped the mother's chin, forcing her to look at him. "You told us that the last piece was with Renna!" The boy's mother flinched, but then looked back at the man keeping her face in one position with a pleading look. "I t-told you! Darren, he said it was there!" Her voice shook with sobs, and then dropped to a hurt whisper-the boy had to strain his ears to hear. "Darren said so."

Another hooded figure appeared out of the shadows, and cackled. His voice was less demanding than the others, and it seemed to drip unsaid insults. "Lady, Darren's dead." The figure placed his hands on his hips, and chuckled dryly. "He's been dead for…" he shrugged, "a couple days now." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and drew a breath to continue talking-but he was cut off.

The presumed leader of the group-the one who had spoken first- had released the mother's face, allowing her to hang her head and allow new tears that mourned her dead husband to fall. The man had wheeled around, the black trench coat he wore making a snapping sound as he faced his counterpart.

"If you don't hold your tongue," he hissed, "You will share the same fate as Darren Nightshade."

The other did as he was told, slinking back towards the four other cloaked figures, each facing their leader.

After a minor silence-disregarding the mother's sobs-the figure removed his hood. Silver hair was freed from its prison, contrasting against the brown-hued skin. Pale eyebrows furrowed over golden eyes, and the man's lips curled into a menacing smirk. From the door, the blonde boy's eyes widened as he noticed the man's teeth. They seemed normal; they were pearly white, but the canine teeth were slightly longer than normal human-and sharper. The blonde squinted, trying to get a better look from behind his barrier-he wanted to dismiss the silly idea that flitted about in his mind. But then he noticed that the ends of the teeth were stained the faintest tint of red, a pale rose against the sterling white. But before the boy could begin to consider what the man _was_, he began to speak.

"Now, Elaina Nightshade, would you like to tell us where the final piece _really_ is?"

Elaina's eyes were watery, but no tears seemed to find the want to flow. "I told you," she began, hanging her head and allowing tangled blonde hair to fall over her shoulders and cast a shadow over her face. "Darren said-"

"To Hell what Darren said!" The silver haired man growled, attempting to stay quiet-he probably knew about the boy and his brother. "You're lying, I know it! The final piece was not with that witch of a sister you have!" He jerked Elaina's head up, forcing her to take the full brunt of his glare. "Tell. Us. Where. It. Is."

Elaina scowled, her blue eyes now ablaze with fury. She shook her head free of the man's grip, and then hissed. "No."

* * *

The silver haired man smirked, and his followers chuckled in their shadowy corner. He slowly moved a single gloved hand under on of the folds of his trench coat, the silver chain on his chest jingling lightly. Then, the sound of a blade being unsheathed hung in the air like and ominous fog. A flick of the man's wrist sent a shining dagger out of his coat, his firm grip on the hilt poising the blade under Elaina's chin. 

"Now, I'm feeling merciful; and I'll give you one more chance," he hissed, now eyelevel with the kneeling blonde. "Tell me where the final piece really is, none of the Renna shit, and I'll spare your life."

Elaina's sapphire eyes glared back at the man's own golden orbs, and then she spat square in his face.

"Never."

"Despicable bitch!" The man growled, some how keeping his voice low. With that, he withdrew his dagger and sent it speeding towards another destination.

Square into the middle of Elaina's torso.

The moment passed agonizingly slow for the now trembling, frightened, and sobbing ten year old blonde. The knife sailed easily through the flesh covering his mother's stomach, as if the skin, muscle, and organs were melted butter. Elaina was a petite woman, and was horribly thin. Because of that, the blade did not stop until it had buried itself into the woman's body to its ruby encrusted hilt-causing the bloodstained tip to pierce through Elaina's back, the scarlet liquid already dripping from its point.

But Elaina was numb to the pain at first, and didn't scream until the blade was twisted sharply within her. As quick as the dagger had entered and been twisted, it was removed in a swift movement, a blossom of blood following its actions until gravity pulled it to stain the plush carpet. The blood that had left the woman's body-but did not follow the blade- began a slow trek don her nightwear. When she had started screaming, a rag similar to the ones holding hands behind her back muffled her cries. The gag was quickly put in place crudely-the cloaked figure that had appeared behind Elaina to tie it was busy looking away from the bloodshed.

The dagger cut through the air many more times, stabbing Elaina's body over and over-each time in an area that would draw blood, but not kill. The silver hair man cackled, finally withdrawing the blade and wiping it on his cloak. Elaina feebly looked down at her bleeding torso, tears now flowing freely and her pained cries barely withheld by the rag. By now, her blood had completely stained her shirt, and was forming a pool around her figure, like a river flowing into a tainted lake.

It was too much for the boy, who's clenched fists were trembling and white. He could taste bile in his throat, and the metallic scent of blood overwhelmed him, but he stood firm.

And yet the man inflicting all of this torture wasn't over.

Replacing the dagger-which now had little residue from its previous actions-at Elaina's throat, he hissed, "You're going to die, Nightshade. All of the healers in the world can't help you now. But," his smirk would have put the Devil himself to shame, "you will not die easily, nor will you die quickly."

The daggers tip barely sliced the thin layer of skin protecting the woman's throat, drawing a ruby rivulet of blood. Slowly, oh so slowly, the dagger was dragged in a collection of lines, until it formed a bloody resemblance of a pointed cross with a base resembling an upside-down heart.

Elaina's face was stained by tears, and her cries of pain-however muffled they were-echoed throughout the room, left to haunt the area where she would soon draw her final breath.

* * *

Finally, something in the boy snapped. He groped blindly in the hall for a weapon, his hand finally clenching on the hilt of a wooden sword he and his brother shared. He knew he was going to die, and he knew it was going to hurt; but he couldn't stand to see his mother treated so lowly. He fiercely kicked open the door, causing the oak panel to crash against the wall and create a loud echo throughout the house. With the sword poised before him, he bellowed, "Don't touch my mother! You son of a bitch!" 

Time seemed to freeze then and there. The silver haired vampire-the boy was sure the man before him and his followers were all creatures of the night- turned slowly to stare at the person that dared interrupt his tortuous killing routine. His followers disappeared into the far shadows of the room, not daring to get into their Master's way. Elaina stared dumbstruck at her son, her sobs ceased for the moment.

Then, the vampire laughed. A horrible, menacing laugh that made the boy's skin crawl. As quickly as the laugh had begun, it stopped, and the silver haired child of the night disappeared. The sword was flung from the blonde's grip, and his arms were twisted behind his back-causing him to wince and cry out with pain.

"Foolish boy, trying to save his mother even when she was destined for death. How sad." The vampire made a 'tsking' with his tongue. "And now he shall die as well."

Adrenaline was pumping through the boy's veins, putting his senses on end. He could hear every quiet breath that the shadowy figures drew. The metallic scent of blood once again overwhelmed all other scents in the room, and his muscles twitched-ready for a 'fight or flight' moment.

But all of that seemed to stop when the vampire began to advance. Everything froze, and the boy's fists unclenched as he stood in one place-petrified. Lights were beginning to illuminate the hallway-probably his brother, awake and worried-but all that the blonde seemed to be focusing on was the man holding his life in the palm of his black glove encased hand.

He feebly struggled as his head was raised and tilted to the side, exposing his throat to the vampire. Vaguely, he heard his mother struggle against her bonds, seemingly oblivious of the holes in her torso.

A pained yell escaped the blonde's lips as two knife like teeth pierced the skin below where his pulse beat a steady rhythm-like a drum. The fleeting sensation of blood leaving his person at an alarming rate filled him, and he could feel himself going light-headed. He probably would have fainted, if it weren't for his brother, Sora, turning on the lights and screaming in horror.

Then the brunette had disappeared, his yelling and footsteps echoing throughout the house. The quiet sound of lights being clicked on followed his passage down the stairs, until he stopped and the sounds of hysterical talking-Sora was making a 911 call-traveled up to them.

Scowling, the vampire withdrew from the boy's neck. He licked his lips, cleaning off the ruby liquid that had collected there. Then, he dragged his tongue over the two puncture wounds, collecting the blood and sealing the wound¹.

* * *

One of the other vampires quickly closed and locked the bedroom door. The others, including the silver haired one, rushed to the window-listening for the slightest sound of sirens. While they were doing that, the boy-who had fallen to his knees in pain-crawled over to the struggling form of his mother. Trembling hands hastily untied the bloody rags limiting Elaina's actions. 

Immediately after untying and un-gagging his mother, arms wrapped around him and reassuring words filled his ears. Then, his mother's face turned stony, and in a flurry of motion her wedding band and the medallion always hanging from her neck (the vampire must not have thought it important) were thrust into his hands.

"Protect these with your _life_," she hissed, closing his hands around the jewelry. "These are the two halves of the final piece of Kamera. The Organization has the other four pieces. I don't care what you do-" she drew a breath, and then coughed violently. Blood escaped her mouth, making a trail down her chin.

The boy cringed, attempting to remove the scarlet liquid with one of the rags that had recently served as a binding material. When the blood flow ebbed, Elaina's face was paling from its normal sun-kissed tan to paper white. Moving to apply pressure to the biggest stab wound, the blonde looked up at his mother as his wrist was grabbed.

"Don't fret with my well-being," Elaina muttered, slowly shifting her weight from one knee to another. "I'm as good as dead." She smiled at her son, and then motioned to his closed hand. "Remember what I said; protect these with your life. When you're stronger, you must claim the other four pieces. But not until then." A single tear escaped Elaina's previously dried eyes and she murmured, "Be a good boy, and take care of your brother."

Tangled blonde hair fell over the woman's shoulder, and as she kissed her son's head, she used her final breath to whisper her last words.

"I love you."

A dim veil dulled sapphire blue eyes, and Elaina Nightshade was no more.

The world seemed to stop, nothing mattered anymore. The boy stared in disbelief as his mother's head slowly fell, as if she were bowing her head in prayer. A single tear escaped his once dry eyes, and that seemed to trigger an onslaught of the salty liquid.

"Mom! Mommy!" The boy's strength left him, and his kneeling position turned to him flat on the floor-his arms wrapped around his mother's body and him weeping into the carpet.

* * *

He would have stayed there, if it weren't for someone tugging at the collar of his nightshirt. His balance abandoned him as he was wrenched into a standing position, and he swayed dangerously as the picture of the silver haired vampire came into focus. 

The boy had no strength to try to fight the man, and his throat was dry, making sure he couldn't yell at the vampire. Instead of doing either, he opted for hanging his head, blonde spiked going limp and covering his eyes. The sound of shredding fabric met his ears, but it took a few seconds for him to realize that the sound was his shirt being torn in two. The familiar glint of the bloodstained dagger met his eye, and his breathing became quick and shallow.

Blue eyes were quickly clenched shut as the blade neared his flesh. But no searing pain bloomed, and he didn't see the white light or tunnel that people said meant death. Only a tiny prick of pain, a small sting over his heart. Cautiously he opened one eye; to see that the dagger had barely pierced the skin over his heart, just enough to draw blood. Then the dagger was moving.

It didn't hurt at first, just a faint stinging like that of a paper cut. But then the pain grew, and as blood made a red hot trail down his chest, he had to bite his lower lip to keep from crying out. The familiar metallic taste of blood from his lip, mixed with the smell of the ruby liquid and the now searing pain of the dagger were too much-and the boy began to whimper helplessly.

Then, a cloaked figure near the window hissed, "Xemnas, the police are here, we have to go!"

The silver haired man, Xemnas, grunted in return, then muttered, "Begin to retreat, I won't take long."

The boy gazed down at his chest when Xemnas removed the blade, barely making out the Roman Numeral 'XIII', before he heard the now all-too-familiar-sound of metal slicing skin. Averting his gaze to Xemnas, he noticed the vampire's palm was slashed and bleeding freely.

It took a few moments for the blonde to realize the man's intentions, and when he did he was too late. The vampire's bloody palm was pressed to his bleeding wound, and he could feel the vampire blood entering his veins-causing a horrible stinging sensation to spread throughout his body as the vampiric cells began to corrupt his heart. He heard a roaring in his ears, and could faintly hear someone calling his name.

It took him a second to realize it was him that was roaring, but he didn't bother to stop. The pain was horrible; he had all rights to voice his feelings.

And then the hand that was making his life Hell was gone. Quickly, the vampire spat on both of his hands, pressing the unwounded one to his bloody chest. Steam rose from the wound, and the faint sensation of healing followed.

"You're only half-blooding him!? Superior, we-" the follower that had been watching the blooding was cut off by his leader.

"Don't have enough time, now go. I'll follow within the minute."

His follower nodded, then disappeared out of the open window, quickly becoming a shadow in the night. The blonde's name was screamed again, this time accompanied by a gruff voice-probably someone from the police. Xemnas smirked, but the blonde didn't notice, the vampire cells in his body made his vision swim.

"So, that's your name, is it?" The vampire asked, not expecting an answer. By now an insistent banging was coming from the locked door. The boy's vision was fading, and his other senses were slowly fading in unconsciousness with him. But before he lost all of his sense, he heard a sinister whisper, laced with laughter, near his ear.

"Welcome to Organization XIII, Roxas."

And then the world disappeared, throwing the boy into oblivion.

* * *

¹--I'm going with some of Darren Shan's ideas on vampires. One of them is that the saliva of a full-vamp has healing qualities (stops infections, closes minor wounds, etc) 

**Authors Notes:** So? What do you think?! I actually had my English I teacher read this, and she thought it was awesome, but I want to know what you guys think (cause ya'll are freaking awesome!) lol Reviewers get plushies and cookies!

**--Axarsh**


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